What I Never Had
by Not Your Average Second Banana
Summary: Ah, the usual. Ron's a prat. Hermione gets ticked. What else could you ask for?


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That wonderful duty goes to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers Inc.  
  
Author's Note: Have fun with this one. My reviews begged for more Ron/Hermione. I actually got one past 1,000 words! Yeah for me! (victory dance) *cough* sorry bout that *cough* anyway, R/R!  
  
What I Never Had  
  
  
  
  
  
"I don't know, Ron, you were being a git," Harry said.  
  
Enraged, I replied, "Fine. Take her side. Jesus, Harry, I thought you were my friend." All the while, I was giving him a look that would have made water boil. He took the hint and left the dormitory.  
  
I threw myself on my four-poster bed and recalled how this day turned into a nightmare.  
  
~*~  
  
Dumbledore stood at the head table prepared to make an announcement. "Since the fourth annual Yule Ball was so successful, the staff and I have decided to hold a Commencement Ball for the 7th years. Younger students shall be permitted to go if asked by a 7th year. The Ball shall take place on the 1st of June. Now, tuck in."  
  
Harry and I groaned. We hated these damn balls. We only went because Hermione dragged us there every year. Somehow, our conversation turned from finding dates to Quidditch. Ah, the amazing capabilities of me, we can turn any conversation to sports.  
  
Hermione sat with a dreamy, far away look on her face. She would occasionally glance our way, contort her expression into that of a frustrated glare, and go back to daydreaming.  
  
~*~  
  
Later, Harry and I were discussing my plans for the ball. Harry, to my disgust, was going with his new "best friend," my little sister, Ginny.  
  
I kept suggesting people, who Harry gently pointed out were way out of my league. "Ah, screw it," I caved in. "Hey Hermione!" She glanced up from her book. "Do you want to go to the ball with me?"  
  
"Let me get this straight," she said in an oddly constrained voice. "You want to know if I'll go to the ball with you, because you are too lazy to ask the girl you really want?"  
  
"Yeah, so do you want to go with me?" I asked. I saw Harry, Ginny, Fred, George, oh hell, the entire Gryffindor common room visibly wince. I instantly knew I had done something very wrong. I watched them all prepare for one of mine and Hermione's infamous rows. Distantly, I heard Harry muttering, "Here we go again."  
  
"You bloody prat!" Hermione screeched. "You disgusting male chauvinistic pig. I wouldn't go to that damn ball with you if you were the last man on Earth. How dare you insult me with that pathetic invitation. You who can't even hold a girl's interest for more than 3 days!"  
  
"Like you can talk. How about Viktor Krum cheating on you with some Bulgarian whore? Yeah, you kept his interest real well!" I blurted out past the brink of rage. Oh, if I only could have sucked those words back into my mouth. She was instantly on her feet, across the room, and slapping me senseless. And she was gone; she was out the portrait hole before I could see straight.  
  
~*~  
  
And here we are now. Now that I have clamed down considerably, I realized that I was a 'bloody prat' as Hermione so kindly out it. So, I never had any intentions of asking any of those other girls to the ball. It was always Hermione. But now she won't even come within 30 feet of mew. Whoever said, "Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn," must have had trouble keeping their mouths shut like me.  
  
I should apologize. I have zero chances of her liking me or anything. But, I can't lose her friendship.  
  
After being smacked around by Ginny for being a git, I set out to find Hermione in the only place she could be, the library.  
  
~*~  
  
If anything could have made that night worse, it was the scene unfolding in the library when I entered.  
  
Draco Malfoy was shaking Hermione's shoulders, telling her, "You are beautiful. You are bloody brilliant. You are every Hogwarts man's fantasy. And if Weasley can't see that, he's blind." She smiled as he wiped away her tears.  
  
So Malfoy had stopped being an insufferable git in 6th year when his father was killed, but this was Hermione he was touching. He was now doing an uncanning impression of me, and she was laughing! Until that moment, I didn't know how much it could hurt to lose something I never really had. I turned away as Malfoy was hugging Hermione in a way that left no questions to his intentions.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione ended up going to the Commencement ball with Malfoy. I fumed. Harry kept me as far away from her as possible so she wouldn't know. I didn't bother finding a date. If it wasn't Hermione, it wasn't worth it.  
  
I watched them dance and laugh. She was all smiles, and, unfortunately for me, she really looked like she was having a good time.  
  
Last dance was called. Malfoy nodded his head towards me, said something, and Hermione looked in my direction with a sad smile. She nodded. He kissed her on the cheek and walked away.  
  
She came up to me, taking deep breaths as she walked. "Care for this dance?" She asked with a slightly arrogant smile.  
  
I looked her over. She looked amazing. Hair in thousands of tiny curls, midnight blue dress robes, hands on her hips, and that smug little smirk that just threw me over the edge. I grinned and took her extended hand. When we reached the dance floor, I put my arms around her. This is how it should have been.  
  
"You know you were horrible, don't you?" She asked in a small voice.  
  
"Yeah," unknowingly, I had admitted I was wrong for the 1st time ever.  
  
She smiled. I smiled. It was one those picture perfect moments, shared only by the best of friends. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry and Ginny a little too close for my comfort. And I didn't like the look on either of their faces. "Hey," I exclaimed.  
  
She rolled her eyes. "And to think that I had you all to myself for the moment. You'll never change, will you, Ron?" She asked looking up at me with stars in her eyes.  
  
"Not a chance," I grinned. "Now excuse me while I beat up Harry."  
  
"Ron, you let go of me; I go back to dancing with Draco," she said in a singsong voice. If it were at all possible, my grip tightened on her hips. "That's what I thought. Your sister is 16; she can handle herself...and Harry for that matter."  
  
I muttered random thoughts about killing Harry for putting his hands (and lips from what I could see now) on my sister. Hermione sent me a somewhat playful evil glare.  
  
I whined. She pointed out logical reasons that made me look stupid. But that's what me and Hermione did. Nothing would ever change. 


End file.
